


To Conspire Against the King

by pyromanicofthesea



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Lightning, M/M, anidala mentioned, completed work, mild emotional pain, obi-wan never got over anakin oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyromanicofthesea/pseuds/pyromanicofthesea
Summary: Darth Vader overhears the truth of Padme's death, and takes the only action that makes sense: revenge.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Vader
Comments: 39
Kudos: 154
Collections: VaderWan





	1. Vader makes a forcecall

**Author's Note:**

> The only person angrier about Padme's death in the films than Anakin is me. LoSt ThE wiLL tO LiVe bah no, Padme is stronger than death by heartbreak and that's the hill I will die on.
> 
> Special thanks to [Kevlar01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kevlar01) for betaing this and also for encouraging me to actually write ideas instead of just rant on about them lol

The hallway gleamed in the artificial lighting. Panels of black and grey durasteel expanding out for what felt like miles. Darth Vader hid his steps with the Force as he approached the doors to his master’s chambers. He went to open the half-closed door, but his hand froze when he heard his master talking to himself about something. Vader stood against the wall, out of sight while he listened in to what Darth Sidious was talking about.

  
“-hardly enough of that blasted Senator’s power left for me.” Which Senator? “Her life force keeps waning now. What’s the point of so much trouble if the power isn’t permanent.” He couldn’t mean- “That damned apprentice of mine should have loved someone with a stronger connection to the Force.” Vader fled as fast as his suit could carry him, for if he stayed he would have challenged Sidious right then and there.

  
His world spun as he climbed into the pressurized chamber of his room. He needed out of this damn suit, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, what he had just heard drilled a hole in his chest straight through his heart.

  
He felt like he was going to be sick.

  
He was almost certain he was going to vomit.

  
Once the meditation chamber was sealed, Vader tore off his helmet and tossed it to the ground. That was foolish of him, but at the moment he really didn’t care if his helmet was damaged or not.

His wife. She had been.

  
Sidious.

  
He had.

  
“Padme,” Vader croaked out, his unamplified voice barely a whisper. He felt like he was to cry. He was out of tears to shed. The oldest scar the Sith wore had been torn open and left exposed to the harsh outside air.

  
Sidious lied.

  
“Padme,” Vader whispered again, and in his mind continued, prayed out into the Force, _”I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I should have known.”_ He sat, not meditating as he usually did, but wallowing in the newfound heartache that crashed into him. What a fool he had been, to trust the Chancellor. To trust Sidious.

  
Vader’s sorrow turned to rage, as most of his thoughts did. As he was trained to do.

  
Vader glared daggers at the walls of the meditation chamber, and imagined Sidious’s decrepit head in place of the walls. One dagger. Two daggers. Three daggers. Four. Five. Six. He wished he could impale Sidious with a thousand vibroblades, directly into his skull.

  
He killed Padme. His wife. His love. His world.

  
Darth Vader decided in that moment, in the solitude of his meditation chamber, isolated from all else, Lord Sidious would pay for the murder of Padme Amidala.

There was only one man Vader knew he could still turn to. His troops were controlled by his master, as were the rest of the Sith allies. The droid logs were run through the main system that Sidious had authoritative access to. They couldn’t be trusted. There wasn’t a single soul or droid on this ship who could be trusted. There was only one man in the entire galaxy.

  
Vader reached out with the Force, trying to stay as narrowly branched as possible as he fumbled around for the stray fibers of the bond that once was immoveable. Oh how frayed it was now. The damage that had been done to it. Vader’s heart sank knowing that he did this, that he caused this bond to break, misguided by Sidious’s lies. He felt like a fool, and now he blindly reached through the darkness, through the unknown, trying to repair what little he still could.

  
He didn’t even know if this would work. He knew nothing of where the man was. He wasn’t sure anymore if the man would even answer him, let alone aid him. But Vader knew that this man was the only one left who he could turn to.

  
Across the Force, sent two messages. The first was a set of coordinates leading to an open space location in the Mid Rim. The second message - wrought with emotion so deep, Vader was certain and embarrassed that the receiver could feel it - was a very simple, very broken, _’I’m sorry’_.

Sand whipped across the dry landscape. There was nothing out here. Only sand. Sand and dying hopes and dreams. But, mostly, sand, and nothing but sand. Domed houses that popped up in clusters across the region. Moisture farms that littered the otherwise barren plains. But, mostly, sand, and nothing but sand, and far too much sand for anyone’s liking. Raider camps and the Hutt Palace, and of course the trade center filled to the brim with crooks and thieves. But, mostly, sand, and nothing but sand, and enough sand to drive one mad.

  
Obi-Wan watched as the wind picked up and carried the loose sand across the open expanse of his lone dome dwelling. Times before sandstorms were always the worst. The whole planet was bad, but the moments before a sandstorm hit were the worst.

  
They reminded him too much of someone. He didn’t want to think about that right now. He missed him more than life itself, but it had been years since he…

  
It had been years, so the ache was fading. Not by much, but fading.

  
Besides, he had other responsibilities now. After all, Luke was almost five years old, and that meant he got into plenty of trouble. It always kept Obi-Wan on his toes. He couldn’t let Owen and Beru become too stressed with childcare. It was the least he could do for… no, he was not going to think about him right now. He really needed to stop thinking about him. He wasn’t coming back. He was dead, a shadow took his place, he was long gone.

  
Obi-Wan had looking after Luke to focus on. Had helping Owen and Beru from a distance to focus on. Had staying far enough away that those hunting him would not discover the child or his family to focus on. He had a lot to focus on that wasn’t missing… him.

  
The wind was beginning to get worse, so Obi-Wan headed back inside. Down the steps he went, closing and reinforcing the door behind him so the approaching storm would not blow it open and fill the entryway with sand.

  
He removed his cloak, and shook the sand from his hair. He brushed the cloak off, but didn’t make much of an effort to rid it of sand. It would only get dirty again the next time he went out. Still, he hung it in the hallway and continued his way to the kitchen. The terrine that had been started earlier was nearly finished cooking now. Dinner would do wonders to keep his mind off of…

  
At least, Obi-Wan hoped so.

Normally sandstorms lasted only a few hours through this region, but it had been well over that by the time Obi-Wan decided to check on the weather. Sand continued to bluster about at its high speeds, so inside the exile stayed.

  
He sat on the floor of his bedroom, trying to meditate to both pass the time and let go of the thoughts that plagued him as the storm continued. He remained present within himself, feeling the Force around him. Slowly he slipped back into the calming embrace of the Force. Peace, quiet, calmness, balance. He breathed in, and exhaled slow and steady as his thoughts stilled. Breathe in, breathe out, and become one with the Force.

  
Something from far away pulled him. Something stitching together ends so frayed, Obi-Wan had stopped feeling the dangling line years ago. A voice, a ghost, a sound he only now heard in dreams. Tears began to run down Obi-Wan’s cheeks. It was impossible. Not even unlikely, he _knew_ it was impossible. And yet he heard, plain as day, the voice of the man who made him feel alive. Obi-Wan sat, frozen, as he heard that voice again. The tears would not stop now. He could not stop them even if he tried. Obi-Wan stood and turned, to face the voice so clear it was surely behind him, even though the entire room was empty.

  
“Anakin?”


	2. Jedi have Rogue stats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan answers Vader's Force voicemail the oldfashioned way.

Obi-Wan sat in a back booth in a scummy cantina near the center of Mos Eisley. He had a drink on the table, but had yet to touch it. He was weighing his options. The coordinates he had received through the old bond he shared with… him… were for a location near the border of the Core and the Colonies. That alone made going to the coordinates practically a suicide mission. There were scouts of the Empire everywhere from the Mid Rim to the Inner Core. It would be a true miracle of the Force if he made it through the Expansion Region and into the Inner Rim without getting captured or killed.

  
He considered calling in a favor, but did not know of who to call in to accompany him. The clones were compromised, and just thinking about it made his heart ache. He did not know which of his friends were still alive, and which had been slaughtered by the Emperor’s forces.

  
Thinking of what few companions could remain was tiresome, far more draining than any of the things he had physically done since reaching Tatooine.

  
Knocking back his drink in full, Obi-Wan decided he would travel alone.

Accessing a local hanger was not difficult. There were, after all, well over three hundred within the city lines of Mos Eisley. The difficulty came from keeping out of sight once inside the hanger. Keeping out of sight, and finding a ship that would be suitable for Obi-Wan’s personal mission.

  
It all would be so much easier if Obi-Wan had a schedule and shipping information for whatever he was supposed to find out there. He considered for a moment reaching out through the bond that somehow still remained, and asking Anakin for more information. He decided against it though. He didn’t even know if Anakin would - or could - respond, let alone if the Sith would actually give him the information he asked for. This was still, without a doubt, the strongest smelling trap Obi-Wan ever had smelt. And yet, he was crouched behind a shipment container in a loading hanger, seeking a ship, to walk right into the pungent trap.

  
He didn’t know why he was doing this.

  
That was a lie. Obi-Wan knew exactly why.

After three hours of sneaking around, watching and evaluating ships going by, Obi-Wan figured an Allanar model light freighter was going to be the best he would find. He just hoped the ship had a hyperdrive system as he snuck into the cargo bay. It was going to be a very long trip without one.

  
There was a crew of four aboard, active enough that Obi-Wan opted to stay below the main levels until they were well away from Tatooine. He was playing the slow game of taking over a starship alone.

  
He wished he wasn’t in this alone.

It was surely into the night cycle now. At least, on a larger vessel it would be. Obi-Wan moved from the lower cargo bay up to the main deck, making his way to the cockpit with as light of footsteps as he could manage.

  
A lone Chistori sat in the pilot’s seat. No copilot could be seen or felt nearby. Obi-Wan thought for a moment to draw his lightsaber, but decided against it. The Force was all he would need.

  
“You will return to your quarters, and rest for the night,” Obi-Wan said with a wave of his hand. He reached out with the Force to the Chistori, sending a wave of calm and tranquil suggestion to the pilot.

  
“I will return to my quarters, and rest for the night,” the Chistori repeated, and stood from the pilot’s seat. Obi-Wan took the seat for himself as the Chistori walked out of the cockpit, presumably to turn in for the night.

  
It felt strange to him, to be behind the controls of a ship again. He did not particularly enjoy flying. Enough so that he usually left the flying to…

  
Well, he couldn’t do that anymore, anyhow.

  
Obi-Wan checked the navigation system, and rerouted the ship to the next closest inhabitable planet. He would need to drop off the ship’s crew before he could take the vessel towards the Core, and he certainly wasn’t about to strand them out in space. Even if the ship did come to Tatooine, which was never a sign of legal dealings.

The crew had to be subdued sooner than Obi-Wan would have liked. He had been enjoying the shrill silence of space before the crew found him.

  
That was a lie. His mind was far too loud for his liking, and being left alone with his thoughts really did not help anyone in the slightest. The crew discovering him and trying to kill him was a welcomed change of pace. Thankfully, no one was too badly hurt, only knocked unconscious and restrained to a support beam in the hall. Such a wonderful morning.

  
Obi-Wan landed near a colonist settlement on New Altor, and used a similar mind trick as before to convince the crew members and the ship’s pilot to leave and head for the nearby village. It did not take much doing, although they were mighty unhappy to see their ship leave the atmosphere without them when Obi-Wan made his getaway.

  
Now with a ship and a vague skeleton of a plan, Obi-Wan made his way towards the Core, avoiding the major trade routes as best he could. He was not looking forward to the multi-day trip alone.

The nav system of the Allanar model freighter kept trying to redirect onto the nearest major trade route, and Obi-Wan had to override it each day or so. It became tiresome very quickly, but he knew that the trade routes were sure to be under the watchful eye of the Empire.

  
When he was not flying or fighting the navigation system, Obi-Wan was training. He knew he could be facing anything once he reached the Core, and he had to be ready. While he was by no means slacking on Tatooine, he could never over-prepare for facing a Sith Lord.

  
Obi-Wan swung his lightsaber in a downward motion again, stopping just before he cut into the support pillar in front of him. He performed the motion again, correcting his stance, and again, and again before he performed another grounding move.

  
His mind needed training more than his body did. His thoughts kept wandering off, down dark paths that broke his concentration and weakened his form. He dreaded facing his old Padawan. Moreso, Obi-Wan dreaded that he would not have the resolve to walk away from… him... a second time.

  
He practiced a direct parry motion.

  
The battle on Mustafar still haunted Obi-Wan’s dreams from time to time. The smell of burning flesh, screams of pain and anguish, the sound of his heart breaking, the weight of his feet as he walked away. The guilt that burrowed its way into his bones with every step he took. The regret of not being able to save the one who meant the world to him.

  
If he was being honest with himself, Obi-Wan regretted not Falling with…

  
Obi-Wan shook his head. No. Falling was not an option. The Dark side of the Force was not an appeal to him. He would not access it, not even to bridge the distance between himself and his most treasured friend.

  
Ex-friend.

  
Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and returned it to his belt. He walked away from the pillar. Away from the training session and the thoughts that plagued him and everything else that sat with him.

  
He needed to check on the autopilot anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grad school started but the story is technically finished, I just haven't added any deep mindblowing prose or anything like that. Clip clop chop story plot. I'll upload the chapters around every week or so. I'd LIKE to add more fluffy meaty details to these skin and bones, but grad school is a Lot TM, so have instead my general visualization of this *gently sets this fic down in front of you* enjoy
> 
> and also thanks for reading. I know I don't get super duper expressive in my A/Ns, but I do check up on my fics often and seeing that folks are at least giving them a try makes me smile :D
> 
> oh, and this was very loosely betaed so, any mistakes are entirely me. That's right, I'm going a little bit editing-rogue


	3. Boarding the vessel

Obi-Wan ended up in an empty region near the planet Xa Fel. There were a few ships in the area, all moving about with purpose. All except for one. A Star Dreadnaught sat alone and unmoving in the darkness of space. A medium-sized cargo ship flew past Obi-Wan, toward the Star Dreadnaught. It was now or never. This was clearly the location he was supposed to go to.

  
Obi-Wan pilotted the ship in behind the cargo ship, hoping that he would be met with living officers and not droids. He had a feeling it would take many mind tricks and a miracle to get aboard the Imperial vessel.

  
A miracle indeed. When he docked his vessel, Obi-Wan was greeted by two human deck hands, Force be praised.

  
“You will let me board this vessel, and forget I was ever here,” he said with a wave of his hand and a reach of the Force. The Imperial officers looked at him with a glazed look, before any other words were able to be exchanged.

  
“I will let you board this vessel, and forget you were ever here,” the officers repeated, and stepped aside so that Obi-Wan could pass by them. He pulled his hood over his head, hiding most of his face from view, and walked out onto the hanger floor. He pulled the Force close around him in an attempt to hide himself from the other officers scattered around the large hanger. He sent a silent prayer into the Force, hoping he would remain unnoticed by the officers despite very clearly not belonging on the ship.

  
Obi-Wan took refuge from view behind a stacked row of shipping crafts, and relaxed his pull on the Force with a heavy sigh. It had been more nerve-wracking than anything else. He steeled his defenses nevertheless, not knowing who or what might be able to detect his presence. He was in the heart of enemy territory, as it were. One could never be too careful.

  
An air vent grate gave Obi-Wan an admittedly cliche idea. Using the Force, Obi-Wan removed the grate as carefully as possible. On his hands and knees, he crawled into the ventilation shaft, and re-secured as best he could the grate behind him. Quiet as a man-sized mouse, Obi-Wan traversed the air vent system of the city-sized ship.

Traveling through an air vent system, even when he had to use the Force to launch himself onto a higher shaft segment, was a mind numbing venture. As such, Obi-Wan found his mind wandering more than he normally would allow it.

  
He knew very well that he was walking into a trap. But he couldn’t help himself. Just the feeling of his bond being even remotely repaired by the other recipient made him feel a deep warmth within the very core of his being. He felt renewed just from knowing he was contacted by… by Anakin.

  
Anakin. That man was truly his largest weakness, even after everything that happened. And it was entirely his fault, in the end. Obi-Wan knew that attachments weren’t just forbidden, they were dangerous. His attachment to Anakin continued to risk him his life even now, long after Anakin became… long after Anakin Fell. Anakin made Obi-Wan feel such a warmth that he had never felt so terrifyingly strong. In truth, the degree to which Obi-Wan felt frightened him sometimes. It would shake him to his very core whenever he was forced to face just how much Anakin meant to him.

  
And yet, he still failed him. That’s how Obi-Wan saw it, at least. Perhaps it was _because_ he cared for Anakin so deeply that he lost Anakin in the end.

  
Obi-Wan climbed up another shaft segment, careful to not rattle the metal casing and make any alerting noises. He didn’t even really know where he was going. He was following where his gut led him. He was following the Force, as if that hadn’t ever gotten him into trouble in the past.

  
There was something in the air, though, that told Obi-Wan that whatever he was to face here, he was heading in the right direction. The recycled air of the ship was thick with the Dark side of the Force. There had to be at least one powerful Sith aboard the ship. Obi-Wan thought for a moment to reach out to Anakin, but decided against it. He hated that he thought so quickly of Anakin after feeling a Sith aboard the starship. Obi-Wan wanted so desperately to think of Anakin as anything except a willing Sith apprentice, slaughterer of thousands, Fallen Jedi, warmonger. The list could go on and on, and the list made Obi-Wan sick.

  
How could he have failed his Padawan so badly?

  
Obi-wan thought to the grave of Shmi, thought to the very first act he took upon landing on Tatooine. He knew in his soul that if he had gone with Anakin, or even if he managed to convince the Council to send rescue for the Tatooinian woman, he could have saved Anakin from the darkness growing within him.

  
Anakin’s Fall really was his fault, wasn’t it.

  
Obi-Wan shook his head. No, that was only the Dark side talking.

  
But Anakin had been so afraid. He held so much pain within him. And what had Obi-Wan done to help him? He tried to counsel Anakin. He tried, but was it truly his best? Anakin needed him, and he did not make the mark.

  
Anakin deserved a better master. Anakin deserved a better friend. Anakin deserved a better…

  
Obi-Wan shook his head again. He climbed down from a shaft ledge, and crawled through another junction. He needed to focus. He needed to keep his thoughts clear. He needed to do so much more than what he was presently capable of.

  
It didn’t matter at this point. He was in too deep. There would be no turning back. He was long past the point of no return on this little mission of his.

  
At least if he did not return, Luke and Leia would not be found by the Sith and their Imperial army. No, that wasn’t true. She was being raised by a queen and a politician. It would be too good of an opportunity for Fate to simply let her stay out of the war games that continued after the Republic’s fall.

  
Still. They twins would be safer if there was one less person left who knew their secrets.

  
No. _Thoughts make reality_ , Obi-Wan mentally chided himself. He needed to keep his head on the present.

  
Obi-Wan turned a corner, and climbed up another ventilation shaft segment. He surely must have been somewhere near the center halls of the ship by now. He had been crawling around for what felt like hours.

  
He passed by another vent grate. After thinking for a moment, he backed up, and peered through the metal grating into the hall. An Imperial officer walked by, but the hallway looked otherwise free of foot traffic for the time being. He considered traveling by foot for a while. He could, after all, always climb back into the ventilation system.

  
Obi-Wan’s back made the decision for him, as it chose just then to protest crawling around any further.

  
With careful precision, Obi-Wan removed the air shaft vent grate.

“You called for me, my Lord?” Vader said, and bowed to his Master. Darth Sidious snarled under his drawn hood. He looked down on Vader from atop the throne where he sat.

  
“The stench of a Force user fills the halls of your ship,” Sidious said, his voice a dangerous calm. “Find this trespasser, and kill them.” It takes Vader every ounce of self-discipline to stifle the leap of hope his heart took at the news. That could be Obi-Wan. His message could have made it through, and Sidious had no idea of the treason Vader plotted from behind his mask and his mental walls.

  
If it was Obi-Wan aboard the _Executor_ , then Vader had to be ready for the single most important battle of his life.

  
The battle to avenge Padme.

  
“As you command, Master,” Vader said, and stood. He left the throne room on quick feet, his cape pushed by enough airflow to swish behind him as he walked away with the same flare he had whenever he set off for a kill.

  
In the very deepest part of his mind, Vader was setting off for a kill, and for a kill of a Force user. It was simply not the one Sidious had requested be put to death.

  
Then again, as far as Vader was concerned, Sidious begged to be put down like a diseased cur the moment he murdered Vader’s beloved queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vader ready to throw hands lol
> 
> thanks for reading <3


	4. Always is a dangerous feeling

Obi-Wan felt him before he saw him. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, standing on end as the feeling of Anakin - no, of _Vader_ \- grew strong enough to recognize. The Force signature was warped, flooded with the Dark side and no longer the warm glow Obi-Wan knew. But it was still him under all of the shadows and pain and anger. It was still _him_.

Obi-Wan didn’t fear the Sith Lord, but he changed his course regardless. He was not ready to face his old apprentice. He was not ready to face his failure as a Jedi Master.

He turned a corner, only to be faced with a dead end.

“Stang,” Obi-Wan cursed, muttering under his breath. Vader felt close, turning back the way he came would surely lead to confrontation. He looked around the corridor, but there was only a supply closet door. No vents, no railings giving access to lower levels, no elevators. Nothing but a supply closet, and Obi-Wan couldn’t exactly duck into there. It would be little better than standing here in this corridor waiting for Darth Vader to find him. No, he would have to face the man head on. Even if fighting him was going to re-break Obi-Wan’s heart.

He walked back into the main hall, and pulled his cloak closer to him. He didn’t fear a fight with a Sith, but he feared harming-

Darth Vader turned a corner and walked onto the same hallway Obi-Wan was walking down, his heavy steps a confident beat of intimidation and power. Obi-Wan met the Sith’s masked eyes, and a flood of emotions hit him. He tried to quell his mind, to focus on what was at hand, but it was proving to be a difficult task.

“Now, I don’t suppose you’d let me walk away so we can both forget we saw each other?” Obi-Wan called out as Vader continued to march forward. Vader drew his lightsaber, and Obi-Wan sighed. “No, I didn’t think so either,” he said as he drew his own lightsaber and prepared himself for a fight.

Red clashed with blue in a blinding flash of repelling light. Obi-Wan tried to push Vader back, but the heavy-suited Sith only stumbled. Obi-Wan stepped back and raised his saber to defend against the swung Vader launched at him. Block to his left, duck, block above. He made a swipe at Vader’s feet, but the Sith moved back just in time. Obi-Wan swung up, only to be blocked by Vader again.

The sound of their duel filled the corridor, their sabers cutting shallow gashes into the hallway paneling. There was no one else in the entire ship. For just a moment, there were only the two of them. It felt almost like dancing. It felt almost like the past.

Obi-Wan blocked a swing to his right, parried, and saber met saber again as he defended from a downward slash. Vader was relentless, keeping Obi-Wan on the defensive. And it was entirely Vader, Obi-Wan told himself, and not his reservations about hurting the man. It was entirely Vader. Nothing else.

He parried another direct swing, making a slash of his own only to be blocked by Vader’s saber. That was how they moved, blocking and retaliating each other’s attacks like a choreographed performance. For a moment, just a moment, the two were parts of the same entity, the same organism moving bit by bit to create a masterpiece of light and sound. Amongst the smell of melted durasteel and threat of glowing blade, Obi-Wan felt almost as if he had returned home.

Just as he went to make another attack, Obi-Wan felt the Force tighten around him. Vader pushed Obi-Wan against the wall, his hand outstretched in concentration. Obi-Wan braced himself for a rough impact, but it was less so than he was expecting. Vader stalked up to him, and leaned close, his lightsaber so close to Obi-Wan’s neck that his face was cast in a harsh red glow.

“Follow my lead,” Vader whispered, as quietly as his vocalizer would allow. He was right up against Obi-Wan, one hand on his shoulder keeping him in place. As if the lightsaber at his neck wasn’t going to keep Obi-Wan from trying to escape. The cheek of Vader’s mask was nearly touching Obi-Wan’s. “Tonight, we kill my master.” If he really had to put a word to it, Obi-Wan would have pegged Vader’s tone as akin to seductive, if one could be seductive in a mask like that.

Vader stepped back, and looked at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wished then that he could see the eyes behind that mask. He knew what they would be. Gleaming yellow, burning with anger, a fire that could not be quelled. Pain behind a mask of rage and frustration. The eyes of a Sith. He wished he could see them anyway. Even like that, they were still Anakin’s eyes, and Obi-Wan missed Anakin more than anything else in the galaxy.

“Lead the way, Lord Vader,” Obi-Wan said with a nod. Vader unclipped restraints from his belt, and Obi-Wan surrendered his lightsaber to Vader. He knew he should not trust him. Vader was a Sith. Vader chose his side. And yet, he had reached out to him. Obi-Wan couldn’t just abandon him. He just couldn’t.

Vader bound Obi-Wan’s wrists behind his back, snug enough to look secure, but with plenty of room that they were about as comfortable as bindings could be. Perhaps Obi-Wan really could trust him. Vader grabbed Obi-Wan by the restraints and pushed him forward to walk in step with him.

“Do you trust me?” Vader whispered, the corridor still empty. Obi-Wan didn’t answer for a while, even though the answer was the same as it had been since tasked with the man’s Padawan training. The same as it had been since first meeting him. The same as it had been when he Fell.

Obiwan’s voice was barely a whisper, and his response was felt more through the Force than in any other way.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan is a sucker but that's why we love him, amirite??
> 
> Thanks for reading, as _always_ ;)


	5. Conspiracy in the making

The halls of the _Executioner_ all looked the same, even moreso now that Obi-Wan was being walked through the halls themselves instead of seeing them from within the ship’s ventilation system.

He could only tell when they reached their destination when Vader pulled on his restraints, stopping him in front of a grand door. Vader turned his head just enough to catch a glance at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan did the same, before the two steadied themselves and Vader opened the door.

Vader shoved Obi-Wan forward, causing the man to stumble into a large throne room. At the back of the room was a metal throne, and seated atop it was the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Sidious. The Emperor of the Imperials. Chancellor Palpatine.

“What have you brought me, my apprentice?” Sidious rasped out, glaring down at Vader and Obi-Wan. “This filth was to be killed on the spot.”

“The honor of killing the last Jedi in the galaxy should be yours, Master,” Vader said, bowing ever so slightly. Obi-Wan felt panic well up in his chest. Had Anakin betrayed him? Last Jedi in the galaxy? He surely didn’t mean, he couldn’t. There had been so many Jedi. They had been friends. Family. Obi-Wan’s panicked thoughts echoed one name, and he felt his heart sink.

Ahsoka.

Surely Anakin hadn’t- but Vader, killer of the Jedi, he just might have.

Sidious stepped down from his throne, and drew his lightsaber. Obi-Wan steeled his mind, preparing for what may come. Neither had the chance to act or react, for Vader broke the restraints on Obi-Wan’s wrists and set the Jedi’s lightsaber in his hand.

“What is the meaning of this, _boy_?” Sidious hissed as Obi-Wan drew his blade, electricity crackled at Sidious’s fingertips. Vader did the same, just in time to block a strike from the Force lightning that erupted from Sidious’s hand. Obi-wan made a strike for Sidious, but the Emperor blocked it with his own lightsaber. Vader made a move of his own once the lightning subsided, only to be blocked by the second lightsaber that previously was strapped to Sidious’s hip.

“I do believe your reign of terror is over, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan said, as cocky as ever, strengthened by fighting alongside his old Padawan again.

“Is that what you believe, Kenobi?” Sidious said with a sneer. He parried both Obi-Wan’s and Vader’s attacks before jumping back. “You think you’re strong enough to defeat me, when you weren’t even strong enough to protect your precious Jedi Order?” Sidious evaded an attack from Obi-Wan, and blocked a swing from Vader. He moved to strike at the Sith, but Vader blocked the first and then second lightsaber with a similar display of skill. Sidious leapt back again, and deactivated his lightsabers. Obi-Wan knew this was a taunt. He _knew_. “You couldn’t even manage to save your precious Padawan from the Dark side. What strength do you think you have?” Obi-Wan struggled to keep his emotions down. Vader stalked around, keeping distance from his Master. Surely he knew what Sidious was doing as well. He didn’t appear affected by any of it, but then Obi-Wan couldn’t exactly read Vader’s face behind that mask.

Obi-Wan and Vader moved at the same time, one swinging downward and the other slashing to the side. Sidious reignited his lightsabers to block the two attacks, turned to move and made a swipe at Vader in one fluid spin. Vader tried to evade, but his cape was severed and the back of his suit suffered surface wounds.

Sidious’s fingers crackled with electricity once again, but Obi-Wan could not move in time. Could not warn Vader in time. Bolts of purple, charged with a power Vader had never been struck with before, erupted through the air and sought Vader’s form the same way natural lightning seeks metal. Vader’s suit tensed, locked, and collapsed onto the floor. Obi-Wan’s heart stopped when Vader hit the ground. Silence fell onto the throne room, until the panel on Vader’s chest pinged. A red light flashed. Insistent pinging. Vader didn’t move. Ping. Ping. Ping.

Time slowed. This was it. The end. Any hope he had was gone. Left. Fell to the floor beside his most cherished companion. Vader - _Anakin_ \- was surely dead. Obi-Wan’s greatest fear laid before him, taken the form of an unmoving suit and a pinging red light.

Obi-Wan saw red.

Obi-Wan reached out to the Force, his mind, his hands, his body, his being, moving on their own accord as he’s faced with the death of his closest friend at the hands of this _monster_. He _just_ got Anakin back.

The only thought in Obi-Wan’s head was the uncontrolled desire to bring Sidious to his knees. To strike the Sith down. To kill the man the most painful way he knew how. There was no thought for the Jedi Code, instilled in Obi-Wan since he was a youngling. No thought for collateral damage. For morality. Only killing Sidious for his transgressions. Only making him _suffer_.

Obi-Wan moved to shove Sidious back with the Force, with all the strength he could muster. Anything to put distance between Sidious and Vader. He intended to push, but the air around Obi-Wan’s fingertips crackled to life. Bolts of electricity shot from his fingers, honing in on Sidious in the same move that struck Vader down. Sidious’s form seized, the attack so powerful the skeleton of the Sith glowed beneath his thin, decrepit skin.

Obi-Wan didn’t know that Vader lived inside the immobile suit. He did not know that were the suit not locked, Vader would still have been frozen, shocked by the display he silently observed. Obi-Wan, so bright in the Light side of the Force, a glowing and pristine Jedi Knight, launched with such ease a power of sorcery performed only by high-ranking Dark side users. Performed almost exclusively by the Sith and their cohorts. Horror was not the word, but it frightened Vader how easily Obi-Wan dipped into the Dark side of the Force.

Sidious fell to the floor, and Obi-Wan attacked again, this time crying out in his anguish, not knowing Vader lived. Not knowing Sidious was dead upon hitting the ground. Tears streamed down his cheeks, for the second time he cried for Vader - for _Anakin_ \- that month, after seldom allowing himself to feel so much for years.

“Stand up, you coward!” Obi-Wan cried out, his body trembled from both exhaustion and rage. “Stand up and face what you’ve done!” He went to attack the smoking corpse again.

“Obi-Wan,” Vader called out with all his strength, both verbally as best he could in the malfunctioning suit and through the Force. It stopped Obi-Wan in his tracks. The sound of his voice caused the rag to melt from Obi-Wan, leaving only tired relief.

Obi-Wan rushed to Vader’s side, and hugged him, lifting the heavy suit off the ground.

“Anakin,” he sobbed into Vader’s shoulder, and a flood of emotions spread through the Force around them.

“My chambers,” Vader gasped out, and Obi-Wan lifted Vader with the Force.

“Lead me,” Obi-Wan said, and Vader did just that, as best he could, as the two left the throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The old king is dead, long live the king
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	6. Anakin and Obi-Wan have a talk that really should have happened a week ago

Vader was stable within the pressurized chamber, connected to a secondary life support system so that the mask could be removed and the suit repaired. He was, however, alone as he made the necessary repairs. Well, alone physically. At some point, the bond between him and Obi-Wan mended enough that they were able to communicate with ease. Not as much ease as when Vader was still a Jedi, but enough ease that it only took some thought instead of all mental attention.

If he was being honest with himself, it felt nice to be reconnected to Obi-Wan. Somehow it just felt right.

It felt far better that the void of his own emotions he had been stuck in for so long after. Obi-Wan wasn’t as warm as he had been before, but a lot had changed. Maybe too much had changed. Vader hoped not though.

Obi-Wan had returned to the throne room after Vader assured him he would be fine. He drew his lightsaber and beheaded the corpse of Sidious, not trusting the Sith Lord a bit. He had remained hidden under the nose of the Republic for ages. Obi-Wan wasn’t about to take any risks on what tricks the Sith may or may not have hidden up his sleeve. So, he beheaded Sidious and launched the body and head into the trash incinerator. He wasn’t about to admit it, but it felt good to rid such an evil from the galaxy.

It took Vader a full standard week to get his suit up to a functional state. It was the longest standard week of Obi-Wan’s life. It wasn’t that communicating through the Force wasn’t enjoyable, it was simply that, well, when Vader stepped out of the pressurized meditation chamber, Obi-Wan pulled Vader into what had to be the tightest embrace he had ever given.

“Obi-Wan,” Vader laughed, wrapping his arms around the older Jedi. “It’s not like we hadn’t spoken.”

“Still,” Obi-Wan replied, and rested his forehead in the crooks of Vader’s shoulder. “I thought you died, Anakin.”

“Vader,” Vader corrected.

“Vader,” Obi-Wan repeated.

“I do want to talk about what happened last week though,” Vader said, and Obi-Wan could feel the look he gave him even with the mask in the way. Obi-Wan was trying his best not to think of what happened in the throne room. He wasn’t proud of it, but worse still, he didn’t regret a thing.

“I know,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Obi-Wan,” Vader nudged him to let go. Obi-Wan felt Vader’s fear through their bond. He knew the man was worried about him. It still didn’t mean he was wanting to face the reality of the situation himself.

“Alright, alright,” Obi-wan said, feigning a defeated voice. “If you insist, can we at least take the conversation in there?” He nodded to the open meditation chamber. Surely Vader knew why Obi-Wan would request it. Vader shook his head with a sigh, but his body language suggested amusement. Oh, he absolutely knew.

He _absolutely_ knew, considering Vader scooped Obi-Wan up and carried him into the chamber, much to Obi-Wan’s surprise.

“Oh honestly, was that really necessary?” Obi-Wan asked as the chamber door came down and secured itself into place.

“Of course it was,” Vader said, sounding as cheeky as ever. He set Obi-Wan down, and then sat in the command chair in the center of the chamber. He removed his helmet himself, opting not to use the automated robotic arm that hung stationary at the ceiling of the chamber. Obi-Wan felt his heart ache at the sight of Vader’s wounds. It had been years, and they were still as red and angry as the night on Mustafar. Vader set the helmet down on the ground, beside the chair.

“I’ve missed you,” Obi-Wan said, his voice barely above a whisper. Vader looked up at Obi-Wan, his eyes somewhere between fading to blue from a burning yellow. Obi-Wan stepped forward and put his hand to Vader’s bare cheek, but recoiled back when he felt Vader wince.

“It’s alright,” Vader said, and took Obi-Wan’s hand. He brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s been _years_ ,” Obi-Wan said, not letting go of Vader’s hand. “Would you let me heal you?”

“There’s not much you could do by now,” Vader admitted. He gave Obi-Wan a serious look. “But my condition is not what I wanted to talk about.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighed, and he let go of Vader’s hand. “The throne room. I don’t know what happened.” He had begun to pace around the chamber, circling Vader’s chair.

“Force lightning, especially that powerful, that takes access to the Dark side to use,” Vader said, and Obi-Wan continued his pacing.

“I know, I know,” he said, and Vader could feel his distress. “I thought I lost you, I couldn’t think, I was so scared, I was so sure that you were gone, Vader, all I could see was-”

“Red.”

“Red,” Obi-Wan confirmed. Vader turned and looked at him. Obi-wan had never seen the man so serious.

“I fear you are Falling, Obi-Wan,” he said. His eyes were wet, glistening in the overhead lights. Obi-Wan was frozen for a moment before he hung his head.

“If you asked me to,” he said, and then looked to meet Vader’s eyes. “I would follow you anywhere. Even to the Dark side.” Vader stood and embraced Obi-Wan with the same strength the Jedi had earlier. Obi-Wan returned the hug almost immediately, trying to calm his breathing.

“I know how much your connection to the Light means to you,” Vader whispered, not making any move to let Obi-Wan go. “I will never ask you to abandon it. Not again.” Obi-Wan rested his head on Vader’s shoulder, at a complete loss for words. Relief and tranquility flooded their bond. Obi-Wan felt at peace again, knowing he could be at his beloved’s side again.

Glasses clanged together as drinks were shared and fights tried to start in a bar on an unknown planet. In a far corner booth, a hooded figure sipped a drink that had sat on the table for some time now. A strong disturbance in the Force sent a cold spark down her spine, and she reached for her lightsabers, drink abandoned, ready for anything that might occur.

The moment passed, and for the first time in her life, she felt the Force hold perfect balance. She smiled, and took her drink in hand. The Togruta made a small toast in the air, a smile to herself across her lips. It appeared that, somehow, she just _knew_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasps* who's that at the end?? A certain snippy padawan who canon STILL hasn't confirmed to have lived or not?? According to my canon, she's alive, and I like that much better :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading this, and to any newcomes: welcome to my favorite passtime!  
> Love you all <3


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